


Facade

by LeoBeLike



Category: One Piece
Genre: 80s AU, M/M, Martial Arts, real world AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 23:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15059909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoBeLike/pseuds/LeoBeLike
Summary: Since childhood, Zoro Roronoa has been striving to conquer the Battle Royale, determined to fulfill a promise. Since childhood, he's done it alone. But  now, he finds himself the subject of a rather captivated reporter. Or is it Zoro who's been captivated instead...?[ Story inspired by the famous film, BloodSport ]





	Facade

**Author's Note:**

> For right now I put there are only four characters, but I definitely plan to add more. Other than that, I'm pretty excited to start this story haha. Enjoy!
> 
> The cover art is made by @charlienozaki

* * *

Zoro’s hands gripped the wooden box tightly, his nerves on edge with determination and anticipation. It was silent in the bus he rode on. No one was talking. No music was being played through the radio, which was a good thing. He didn’t bother with loud people.

Not many people were seated on the bus. In fact, the seat next to him was completely vacant yet he preferred holding his box securely in his lap.

He stared as the scenery presented before him went by blurrily with each passing second, at the same time realizing that the vehicle hadn’t stopped in quite a while. Turning his head to face forward, he now began drumming his fingers against his sacred case impatiently.

He had just left his hometown after a visit. He’d lived there a good twenty-one years. Long they may have been, but he’d made the greatest of memories. Spending most of his childhood training in all kinds of ways was the biggest one. He didn’t mind it, considering he loved every single day he did.

He had a preferred way to train, however, with his three _wooden_ swords. Strange, his technique was, but he enjoyed it, and he knew he would get better, eventually own _real_ swords, and find the right way to fight with them.

His master, Koshiro, was all for it, motivating him to keep going and do his best, but the man had a parental side to him, so although he’d been in support of ten-year-old Zoro training with boulders, he’d still wanted him to attend school.

And so Zoro did, despite him not really having any interest in doing so. He miraculously attended school until high school, where he graduated and made the decision not to go to college and fully committed to his matured three-sword style at eighteen.

His unique ability caught the interest of the younger boys from his town. They’d shown up at Koshiro’s dojo almost every day and _begged_ Zoro to train them. He had agreed, Koshiro on board with the idea, and he took up the job as a young master for a while.

Of course, he’d taught them the traditional way, as Koshiro would, but the boys had no complaints, only caring that the awesome Zoro was their teacher.

It was at nineteen that Zoro left for the first time. He wasn’t yet prepared to accomplish his goal, but he decided it was time for a different kind of training. And he set off, traveling mindlessly, further into the East Blue where he competed in multiple competitions against all sorts of people, earning his money for food and shelter from his wins.

He lost some, but each fight only told him he had to get even better, get even stronger. His matches intensified, until he had more wins than losses, earning himself the nickname, “Demon of the East Blue.”

After one of those matches, he got it. The invitation he’d been expecting.

He was putting away his swords, wiping sweat off his face and neck with a towel, when a man, dressed in formal clothes, approached him with the envelope.

The invitation that he had been wanting to receive, for a friend he once knew.

Zoro had made himself a promise for her, and to accomplish that promise, he was going to have to fight and win.

And here he was now, on his way to do just that.

Someone from somewhere behind him opened a bag of chips as he listened to the rustling of straining plastic, an eventual pop, and finally, chewing.

Rolling his eyes, he let out a sigh and began waiting once more. As long minutes went by, the bus neared what appeared to be a small village.

“Now stopping at Foosha Village,” shouted the driver, and soon enough, the bus came to a slow halt in front of a stop, where only two people were waiting.

A middle-aged woman stepped in quietly, paying no mind to anyone as she made her way to the back of the bus.

The second person, however…

“Yosh! Finally! I’ve been waiting all day for this dang bus to get here!” the man declared while laughing.

Zoro was in the midst of a groan at this person’s loud voice, but stopped when he spotted the duffel bag the man had on his right shoulder.

He noted, right away, the man’s strange and unique appearance. He had on a T-shirt of the brightest red, faded jean shorts paired with some sandals.

But what Zoro keenly noticed, atop the black tousled hair the man had, was a straw hat, something Zoro had never seen before.

He looked young, his big round eyes giving him an innocent look, his wide grin hinting just a little bit of immaturity. But it was offset by the wicked scar that tore its way across his face, beneath his left eye in a jagged white line.

Then, he glanced Zoro’s way. The grin he wore turned into a smile as he locked eyes with him.

For a moment, it looked like the man was contemplating sitting next to him, but as the crunching of chewing filled the bus, the man instantly turned his head towards the noise.

 _“Food!_ Hey, guy, mind sharing!?”

And that was all he said before he too went to the back of the bus, the crunching of food stopping, being replaced by the sound of struggling.

Zoro didn’t even bother turning back, his gaze instead going out the window once again, wanting nothing more than to arrive at his destination.

* * *

It was a cloudy day, but not so much that there would be rain.

Zoro quickly got off the bus, the smell of humid air hitting his nose instantly. He swung his backpack over his shoulder, sturdily grabbed the handle to his case, and set off, knowing the hotel he was staying at was somewhere in the direction of south.

The streets were crowded in Water 7. As he walked, he bumped into people, annoyed, but he continued.

“Hey, you!”

Zoro thought nothing of the call as he pushed through the crowd.

Eventually, a hand touched his shoulder, startling him and making him look back at who it was that was touching him.

He was met with familiar round eyes and a wide smile.

“Hey! You look really cool! I think I know you from somewhere, but I can’t put my finger on it. But anyway, thought I’d talk to you since I’m headed this way too! I’m Luffy, by the way!”

Zoro didn’t stop walking and he didn’t say anything either, just hoped this kid would get off his back.

“Where ya headed? I’m gonna go crash at a hotel a little up ahead,” Luffy, as Zoro now knew, went on, completely unfazed that Zoro wasn’t answering him.

Zoro looked up, pulled out a small slip of paper from his pants pocket, and saw that the name of the hotel messily written on the slip matched the building before him.

He shoved his hand back in his pocket and went inside, glancing behind him and seeing that Luffy was still following him and apparently staying at the exact same hotel as he was, which meant only one thing…

Placing his case down on the ground beside him, Zoro rested his arms on the counter of the reception desk and lazily locked eyes with the attendant.

“Zoro Roronoa. I’m here for the Battle Royale.”

* * *

_Handle of the small dumbbell between his teeth, his small right arm strained as he pulled with all his might. His eyes narrowed and focused, he watched his arm as it shook slightly in front of him, still bent at an angle that wasn’t completely straight._

_Little more._

_With a grunt, he tightened his muscles, and with a strong pull, his arm stretched out fully, forming a weird grin onto Zoro’s now satisfied face._

_“Hell yeah! Knew I could do it,” he mumbled to himself, his voice muffled from the handle in his mouth._

_As the ten-year-old boy worked, his worn boots dug into the grass he stood on._

_The tree he was using for practice, along with the others surrounding him, swayed as the wind from the summer evening rushed through the leaves._

_The soft flowing of water bubbled from a nearby river, its waves hitting the piles of rocks alongside its curb in small splashes. The sky was beginning to become a soothing orange color, signaling the coming sunset._

_It was his preferred weather for training, but whether it was snowing, raining, or extremely windy, Zoro still trained all by himself._

_He wasn’t very close with the children of the village. They much rather preferred to play ball or hide and seek and all that shit._

_Zoro didn’t, however. He loved fighting and his favorite way to do so was with swords. Not real ones, of course. He didn’t have the money to even buy **one**._

_No, Zoro used his very own wooden swords, self-made from some old abandoned plank wood he’d found in an isolated pit near his home. Really, everything he trained with he’d made himself from random scraps he’d found. His dummies, his ropes, his weights---all made by him and they did their purpose just nicely._

_Hearing samurai legends, he knew they used only one sword in battle, and he tried it out himself on a dummy. Holding the handle between his little hands, he whacked the thing until it was nearly broken. Zoro enjoyed the small rush that it cast through his body, but he came to realize that it wasn’t enough._

_He didn’t want to be known as any other basic swordsman out there. He wanted to be different. And so, he’d messily made a second sword and then a third one, his crazy idea of how exactly to use the third one causing him to build faster with excitement._

_All three wooden swords finished, two in his hands and one placed between his teeth, and with even more dummies set up, he whacked at them with everything he had._

_Now he wouldn’t have said he was the master of using his unique technique just yet, but he was going to get there. He was sure of it. Even if he had to work all alone to get there._

_After a few more sets of rock-lifting, he decided to move on, and, letting go of the handles, he panted lightly as the boulder fell to the ground behind him with a loud thump._

_Zoro stood there for a good minute, trying to catch his breath. Small beads of sweat trickled down his forehead while he looked down to stare at his hands, which were held out in front of him, palms up, trembling slightly._

_But then, a second later, he clenched them and looked straight ahead at his dummies, already motivated to move on to his next set of practice. By the base of the tree sat his three wooden swords in a heap, and he walked to them to retrieve them. He placed the hilt of one of them in his mouth and grabbed the others in his hands._

_Zoro turned back around and stared at his dummies, ready to charge at them._

_It suited him just fine that he was all alone. If the other kids didn’t want to practice with him, then to hell with the--_

_“You’re out here again.”_

_Zoro gasped as he swiftly turned, preparing himself to fight whoever had just spoken, even while the sword in his mouth slipped out._

_And just where his swords had been on the ground, sat a little girl who appeared to be the same age as him._

_She sat there, against the tree, her knees close to her chest, arms around her legs and her chin resting on her knees._

_She had a small smile as she watched Zoro._

_“Who are you?” he asked, hesitantly raising his wooden katanas toward her._

_“You always come to this spot to train. I see you all the time. But now you’ve started to train with swords, huh, and three of them at that,” the girl stated, getting to her feet and crossing her arms, placing the sole of her shoe against the tree bark._

_“So what? Who are you?” Zoro asked again, pointing his swords at her with a little more conviction._

_“I’m Kuina. My dad’s the master of Isshin Dojo up the stream. We want you to come train with us.”_

* * *

“Holy crap! You’re the Demon of the East Blue!” Luffy yelled as he listened to the man say his name and watch as the hotel manager handed Zoro his room key.

“That’s how I know you! You’re here for the Battle Royale! That’s so cool because I am too!” Luffy continued in awe, his eyes widening in amazement with a shine to them, almost sparkling.

“I’m Luffy D. Monkey! Can I have my key too?” he asked the woman, his fingers pressed on the counter while bouncing on the tips of his toes.

Zoro was silent through the man’s enthusiasm, but he couldn’t help but smile at his antics and nod in answer to him, deciding it was best to keep silent about his hatred for the nickname.

“Yeah, I am.”

The manager chuckled at the loud man and proceeded to hand Zoro his key, which he received and made to leave for his room, wanting nothing more than to unpack and perhaps train for a while in his room, even if it was just meditating.

Spotting an elevator, he began walking towards it.

“Zoro, wait up! What number key do you have?” Luffy shouted from behind him and caught up to his side in a small jog as Zoro pressed the up button.

_He’s still following me._

Zoro lifted up his hand holding the key, which read number _103._

“Sweet! I’m room 105! We’re neighbors,” Luffy laughed, raising his own key. “Do you have your awesome swords in that case!?” he persisted, pointing at the box held by Zoro in his right hand, making him glance down at the black leather case.

“They’re all in here, ready to use and slice up everyone in my way in the tournament,” Zoro boasted with a smirk. “How are you going to fight?”

They walked into the elevator as the doors opened with a _ding._

“With my fists,” Luffy answered simply, his grin dropping, replaced with a look of seriousness. He lifted his left arm to form an ‘L’, his fist closed and right palm resting on his bicep.

He was a skinny kid. Zoro wondered if he’d be able to pull his weight, but he wasn’t going to underestimate him. Luffy looked like he had some fight in him. But it wasn’t going to stop Zoro from messing with him.

“The hell could you harm? A kitten?” Zoro snickered, glancing to see the man’s reaction.

Luffy was staring straight ahead, a pout on his lips.

“Shut up! I can punch pretty hard! I’m pretty sure I could knock your teeth in,” he grumbled, causing Zoro’s chuckles to grow louder.

And then suddenly, a sharp force hit his shoulder and Zoro shut up immediately, grasping his shoulder with a small pained wince. Luffy wasn’t looking at him, instead looking away with an obvious smile he was trying to hold back.

“Told you I could punch.”

Zoro had been right. Luffy definitely had some fight.

Luffy intertwined his fingers and rested his hands behind his head in a casual pose.

“I can’t wait to compete! I’m so going to kick some ass and be the next Royale King!” he shouted.

Zoro blinked in confusion. “Royale…King?”

Luffy dropped his arms. “Yeah! That’s my name for it. Got a problem?”

“Nope.”

“So then, why are _you_ here?”

Zoro knew his reason for being here. He knew why he’d come to the Grand Line to fight in the Battle Royale, the deadly underground fighting tournament held in secret every five years. It was a battle with no limits, a battle accepting all kinds of fighting techniques.

There was no referee standing on the sidelines to stop a fight if it were to get too brutal. No, it was a fight until the end, whether that mean life or death.

But Zoro wasn’t there to die. He was there to win.

“I’m…fighting for someone I knew,” Zoro said quietly in response.

Luffy went quiet for the first time since Zoro had met him, only smiling as the elevator came to a stop, the doors opening once more.

That smile, and the silence of the stopped elevator brought an awkwardness to the atmosphere.

Neither of them said anything more, giving Zoro the chance to take in the quality of the hotel.

The hosts of the tournament were indeed covering the cost of the hotel for their competitors, but they’d chosen to have them stay in a pretty run-down place. The yellow wallpaper covering the walls of the hallway was almost peeling off, the designs on it fading.

The carpet the two walked over was no longer red, but a dirty burgundy, stains from who knew what coating it in different areas.

They both eventually found their room numbers, even the doors to them looking beaten and old. Zoro could only imagine what it was actually like inside the room.

“You should come over to my room sometime and maybe we can spar, Zoro! Or we can order some pizza!” Luffy suggested in his excitement as Zoro was in the midst of putting his key into his lock.

_Has this guy forgotten that we might end up fighting against each other?_

Zoro turned to face the man and answer his question, but stopped when he spotted something strange down the hallway.

A long-nosed man, who seemed to be reading off the numbers of the doors in the hallway, was stumbling through, evidently nervous about something. The man continued, oblivious to the two men across the hall watching him curiously.

After only a few seconds, however, the man saw them and his eyes widened, as if in fear.

“Hello! Excuse me, have you seen two men, named, uh…”

He trailed off, gaze dropping to a weathered piece of paper he held in shaky fingers, well worn from countless folding and unfolding.

“Ah! Zoro Roronoa and Luffy D. Monkey?” the long-nosed man questioned as he approached the two, hesitation clear in his voice.

“I’m Luffy, and that’s Zoro. Who’s asking?” Luffy responded for the both of them, jamming a thumb towards Zoro.

“Ah, perfect. The name’s Usopp,” the man introduced in relief, clearing his throat. “The manager told me you two were staying on this floor. Anyway, you both are fighting in the Battle Royale, right?

Since there’s fighters from all over, I’ve been assigned to help the two of you from the East Blue find your way around and see that you don’t disqualify yourselves by fighting outside the arena,” he explained with a small boost of confidence. “After you guys settle into your rooms, I can take you to the arena to sign up.”

A little confused at the man’s sudden and brief introduction, Zoro and Luffy said nothing, before shrugging, each heading into their rooms to unpack.

* * *

Somehow feeling as though they could trust the strange man, Zoro and Luffy had followed him out into one of the less popular areas of Water 7.

Zoro found himself once again in the sea of people out on the street. Directly across from the hotel was a farmers’ market, selling fruits, vegetables, and surely useless items, the cause of the crowd.

The roads were busy with vehicles, honking resonating from random buses, cars, and even scooters. It was a lively street, one with many people. Surely the Battle Royale wasn’t in this part of town.

The three strode silently. Usopp smiled as he led the way, clearly content with having found his assigned two men, and they weren’t as scary-looking as he’d expected.

Luffy and Zoro looked above them, at the edifices, most of them apartments in different colors and sizes. But they both looked ahead when they felt themselves walking downwards and into what looked to be a more discrete and isolated location.

“Water 7 is a pretty big city, so it’ll be easy to get lost,” Usopp explained. “Especially in this area. This isn’t the place to get yourself involved in anything messy. There’s a lot of mean-looking people around. Every time I walk past the obscured corners around here the guys there look like they’ll kill me,” he ranted shakily, yet he tried to laugh off his foreboding statement.

It was drizzling now, the smallest of raindrops hitting Zoro’s face as he listened, noting that this area did in fact look dangerous.

Slightly worn-out buildings lined the streets. A neon light reading ‘open’ on a dirty liquor store window flickered through the darkening evening. Graffiti was crudely painted over a surprisingly resilient dentist’s office, the ‘T’ from the sign unscrewed and hanging upside-down.

Laughter emitted from a nearby bar, along with the clinking of glasses.

And right beside that bar, Zoro spotted a small group of men slightly huddled together on the sidewalk. Eyeing the three men as they passed by, they did indeed look mean, just how Usopp had said.

“I’m surprised I haven’t got mugged out on these streets yet, but I think I scare them off with my obvious muscles,” Usopp went on, flexing his muscles proudly. “You guys seem pretty tough too, gotta say. I’m gonna root for either of you two to win the Battle Royale.”

He smiled as he turned to look at them.

“I’m for sure going to win!” Luffy exclaimed with a small chuckle, glancing at Zoro. “Sorry, Zoro,” he added with a grin.

“We’ll see about that,” Zoro replied with a small smile of his own.

“Here we are, guys,” Usopp told them nervously. “Prepare yourselves.”

The trio turned a corner into an old dirty alleyway, where two men stood, engaged in conversation. They instantly stopped when the three men appeared.

Usopp slowly approached one of the men and whispered in his ear, making the man eye Zoro and Luffy judgmentally.

“Go ahead,” he sneered as Usopp stepped away from him.

They walked past the men and into a concealed doorway, which led them directly into another alley, this one much narrower, and dark, pipes hanging above their heads, leading in different directions, some dripping liquid.

To their right were the back doors of isolated shops, the smell from their cheap food wafting out the door. Sparks from jumbled wires against the wall glinted randomly from separate ends. They were in an alley wedged between poor-looking apartments, Zoro looked up to see balconies from those apartments littered above him, some unbelievably close to one another.

Reaching the end of the alleyway, they turned a final corner where two more men were posted, guarding a pair of enormous red doors. The sound of yelling, chatter, and punches rumbled through the door, already audible from the outside.

While Usopp once again talked to the guards, Zoro felt a small pat on his back, glancing to Luffy, who flashed him the biggest grin he’d seen yet.

And just a few moments later, they walked through the red doors and were immediately faced with what was sure to be the arena of the Battle Royale.

In the middle of the surprisingly spacious room was a large board, where there were already a few competitors positioned, throwing kicks at one another, while others were scattered next to the board, also practicing.

Above the fighting ring, attached to the wall, was a scoreboard, where the names of those competing were placed, and just underneath was a small booth for the hosts to sit and watch.

Surrounding the whole room were bleachers, where those who were allowed to enter and view could sit and place their bets on who they thought would win each round.

The sign-up table was just ahead of the fighting platform, behind which sat a peculiar-looking man, sunglasses over his eyes and a feather boa covering his large form.

He grinned wickedly even as he looked down at the sign-up paper, apparently checking off names.

Zoro inhaled deeply. He had finally made it, more than ready to go through with the promise he’d made to himself.

Clenching his grip on his case, silently facing his new coming reality, Zoro was completely unaware of the heated stare coming from a glasses-wearing blond over on the sidelines.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was kind of like a preview, reason why a certain cook wasn't seen just yet. But, thanks for reading!


End file.
